Been Sigh-ing a Lot Lately - At Least Twice Anyway

Whatever happened to the good old days?  The times when things were so much simpler?   I mean, when I was a wee, fuzzy little chicklet, all I had to do was hide from the hawks, and the farmer's dogs, and the farmer, and the coyotes, and the foxes, and the snakes, and the bobcats, and the panthers, and the owls. 

(sigh)

Now, I've got this trig homework, and there's a lot of it, and I just have not been able to keep up, and it's just a little depressing is all.  Ah, well, I guess things could be worse.  I mean, I could still be locked up in the dungeon-like setting of my ex-girlfriend's abode.  Course, if I were still there, then I wouldn't have to go to work, and then I might have actually gotten my trig homework done.

What do you mean, people keep jobs and get their homework done on time?  What kinds of freaks are YOU talking about?  Sheesh....

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a chicken suit to put on.  This country ain't gonna skate itself.

Love,
Z'chicken

The Trouble With Pants

The first thing I realized the last time my pants fell down was that I was wearing the underwear that makes my cheeks look the best.  The next thing I realized was that I was dreaming.  The third and final thing I realized was that the strange buzzing sound I heard was my alarm clock going off, and that's what finally stirred me. 

(sigh)

Can't a chicken just get some sleep anymore?  It's like, ever since I started wearing pants, it's been nothing but trouble.  I never had to worry about 'em falling down when I wasn't wearing them, you know?  (That's a rhetorical question...whatever that means.) 

Can someone answer me, please?  Doesn't anyone else out there know what it feels like to go your whole life without wearing pants, just feeling fine and dandy, only to finally bow to social pressures, start wearing them, and then feel ashamed when they fall down?

Am I crazy?

Well, that does it.  Today, I'm takin' 'em off.

Your,

Pantless...
Chicken

Spicy Chicken Pin-Up and a Missing Wallet

Seeing as how I love controversy, I was intrigued by the recent New York Times pin-up of a raw chicken in a spicy little pose whose plucked presence sparked a bit of a public outcry from vegan activists.  I was so intrigued by it all, in fact, that I spent approximately three minutes reading a story about it on Yahoo News, and I don't invest that kind of time for just anything!  No, sir-E-bob.  It has to be good and juicy for me to waste my precious time reading about it.  After all, I could be picking my nose (do chickens even have noses?) or plucking my chest feathers or digging up some nice worms in preparation for a hot date with some new chick.  Although, typically, I'm really more often just picking my nose, without the prospect of a hot date with a new chick.  Picking my nose and working on homework, is more like it.  Homework, and laundry.  (Do chickens have laundry?  I know I do, but I'm not a REAL chicken, I'm just a human person who seriously, for some odd reason, wants to dress up like a chicken.  I'm thinking that I probably didn't get enough positive attention as a pullet.  Actually, I just looked up "pullet,"  and as it turns out, it's a young hen, not a young, strapping cock-of-the-walk, such as myself.  Moving forward swiftly now, without further delay...)

Speaking of homework, I'd best get back to it if I want to keep up a decent GPA, but in closing, I would like to say that the next time any of YOU lock yourselves out of your office during the weekend and have to walk five miles to call someone so you can get help getting into your house and then borrow a car and feel pretty grateful that you didn't follow the letter of the law and turn that one ID back in when you got the other one updated so you can still drive with a license so you're not too scared to be on the road while your wallet is locked inside the office with your phone and your keys and then you're wondering what your co-workers must do on the weekends, since they're not at the office, too, already, but then of course you need to send out word that you did this because since you weren't meaning to leave, you didn't arm the alarm, and so someone's gotta do that because you'd feel pretty bad if thieves came in and stole the expensive equipment when it was your fault that the system wasn't armed in the first place because after all, you only stepped outside to enjoy your dinner, it wasn't like you were eggs-actly planning to forget that the door knob has this lock setting where you can still turn it to get outside even if it is locked, but as I was saying...the next time you do that, I am so going to laugh at you.  I am never going to let you live that one down.

Z'sheepish,
Chicken

Hooka-Tooka

What did the wannabe programmer type on the first day of class?

Hello world.

It's not a joke, my fair peeps; it's convention.

So, hello world, and welcome back to the corniest blog on the planet, brought to you tonight by tiny fingers tapping out messages for you from a local hooka bar.  Not that z'chicken is a smoker (anymore), but where else can one listen to funky Middle-Eastern grooves while sippin' capuccino and diggin' chicks.  Man, how many mis-spelled words can one chicken peck out?   We'll see, next week, when we conduct our in-depth investigation on the procrastination of chicken.  What does any of this have to do with puttin' things off?  I dunno, but if you figure it out, please drop me a line and let me know at zbigchicken at gmail dot com.  I'd love to hear from you, especially if you're cute;)

Well, looky there, folks, it's Mr. Winky, one of the modern greats in the realm of iconography.  Hey, totally unrelated subject, but is anyone out there taking/versed in trig?  We're currently studying sine, cosine, and so forth.  It's really fun, if you are a sexless droid who likes to dress in feathers and rollerskate, and I'm not pointing any fingers, but it's me.  Though, personally, I'm a little offended that I would refer to myself as a droid.  That's just rude, is what that is.  Jerk.  Hey, who you calling a jerk, man?  Lay off the jet-fuel dude, that stuff'll blow you away.

So, uh, anybody got any triangles they need solved?  Why?  'Cause I'm starting a new business where I solve triangles for people.  It's great, I think it's a great idea, and my one friend, when I thought about telling her about it, she really thought it was a good idea in my head, but then my other friend who's always critical was really disparaging in this other imaginary conversation that I had (for practice), so now, even though I've started the business (well, not really started it, actually, but thought about starting it), I'm feeling a little insecure, and scared.  Yep, scared.  imagine that - a chicken.....scared.  Who'd-uh-thunk?

Isn't it funny what people who dress up in chicken suits and hang out drinking capuccinos in hooka bars studying math type late at night?  Hahaha, I know!  Weirdos.   

z'ultimate weirdo,
chicken

Trig-A-Dig-Dig, Man

Hey, yo, whattup world?  Welcome back to the funniest chicken-impersonation blog on the planet.  My name is zbc, and I verily welcome thee.  And thou.  And YOU!  Yeah, you over there in the funny hat, the one who keeps distracting me at the coffee shop while I'm trying to peck out a very important message for my legions of fans.....are you single?

So, what's new with allayou'sguys?  Can anyone read this?  Is anyone single?  And looking? 


(sigh)


Guess not.  Well, if there's nothing happening in the dating scene, we'll move along to the next best thing: math!  That's right folks, it is time once again for you to help me with my homework, because my assignments for trig are wayyyyyyy behind.  I would talk to the instructor about it but, guess what?  I'm chicken.  I am, really.  That's why I wear this suit, you know?  And preen my feathers.  Actually, I should preen my feathers, as it could help improve my chances with the chicks.

But, and this is the important part:  if I am going to have any chance to preen my feathers and check out the chicks and hopefully practice something other than fruitless courtship displays, I really, really, really, need someone to do my homework for me.  Listen, I know you guys said you're all really busy, and I know you've got a lot on your plate, but couldn't you push some of that stuff aside and make room for chicken?

What?  Was it something I said?

Anyhow, uh, to end this here post today, I'd just like to say that the distance of the arc of a circle subtended by the radius r in a segment where the angle is measured in radians (and referred to as Theta) apparently makes a HORRIBLE come-on line in some circles.  Just an FYI there for ya from your parenthetically-challenged,

Chicken( 

Anniversary

Crap!  I forgot my anniversary.  Oh, great, now Kookaburra's really gonna kill me.  I swear, if it isn't one thing, and it isn't her mother, it's that stupid ultra-violent streak she's got going.  Where on earth did that come from?  From whence did her violent tendencies originate?

Who cares!  After that last incident, where she broke my beak and I had to park it in her dank dungeon for a few weeks (where I promptly forgot all about our anniversary) while I got used to pecking things out with my prosthetic bill has really convinced me that it's time to leave.  That, plus her maid stopped by a few times and boy, was she cute!  We really hit it off well, I must say.  I guess she really digs studly chickens such as myself.

Anyhow, as I said, I'll be going into hiding from lil K, but the rest of you guys, if you need me, just come on down to the Buggy Bowl.  It may not be the coolest restaurant in town, but at least I can get some pretty good quality grubs there, for cheap, and plus they have have Wi-Fi.

Dig,
Z'chicken

Anniversaries Can Be Such Tender Moments in Time - Or Was That "Adversaries Can be Irrational At Times?"

It's been almost a year since this wacky chicken was born, and so, to celebrate the One Year Anniversary of Zbigchicken's blogspot, we're going to do some special stuff - probably something to do with commitment to a course of action or some such thing - so stay tuned!

In the meanwhile, this is zbigchicken's brother, Bob, saying, "Don't ever let your crazy girlfriend break both of your pinkies, because pecking out messages with a prosthetic beak is nigh on impossible."  So, way to go, Kookaburra.  Are you happy now?  You know my brother's only problem, don't you?  It's loving you, you stupid, big-billed, bird-brain.  Why don't you go back to the funny farm, eh?